


Five Times that Nicholas said Danny’s Name (you know, *really* said it).

by tawg



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "five times" fic spanning the length of a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times that Nicholas said Danny’s Name (you know, *really* said it).

The first time – the first time that Danny noticed it – was the time that he tried to think about the least. With the castle and the courtyard and his arm coming up before Nicholas could even get his mouth open-

 _"Danny."_

And Danny couldn’t even notice it – was too busy trying to shut out Nicholas’ face from earlier, that heartbroken look that said maybe too much and confirmed too little and then, too, Nicholas had said it. Had said “Danny”, and something else. No, maybe. Please, maybe. Help. Danny. Dannydannydanny.

And then Danny’s arm came down and Nicholas shuddered beneath it, crumpled like there was nothing to him and Danny could only stare down at him, could only stare and hope that he hadn’t actually killed him. Danny was so hopeless and so helpless that no one would be surprised – not that anyone would know to be surprised – and Nicholas felt so limp and heavy under his hands that there was no reprieve.

No way to stop the echo inside his head of that first time.

 

The second time it was like a one-eighty. It was Danny all limp and heavy and somehow everything hurt at once – and surely there wasn’t enough of a single body to hurt like that? Surely it must be someone else’s hurt being pumped through him too.

And Nicholas was there and his mouth was moving, and it took too long for the words to reach Danny’s brain – in his memory, anyway. The real incident was long past, and who could trust what was in their heads these days anyway? But Nicholas was grasping his hand and his shoulder and it was just the two of them and barely any smoke and sirens coming-

(except of course there weren’t. They were the sirens and they were too busy already being there to be busy coming, too busy altogether…)

\- sirens echoing and Nicholas being a pain and not speaking at the same time his mouth was moving and Danny couldn’t move at all until things finally sank in. Until Nicholas’ words sank in – and even then he wasn’t hearing them, just seeing his mouth move. Maybe that was best. Maybe hearing that broken voice twice in once day would kill him for real.

But Nicholas was above him and holding bits of things and saying that everything was okay, really.

 _"Danny."_ Everything’s fine.

 

The third time was months down the track. With Danny’s bandages off and his stitches out, and maybe the skin was still a little bit tight and far too hard around the edges, but it felt good to be on his couch, and good to have Nicholas beside him. And then one thing happened, and then another thing did, and then they weren’t watching the movie anymore – which wasn’t uncommon for them, uncommon for Nicholas – and their mouths were together.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened.

But there was something brave in the air, and then Danny’s pants were pressed down and Nicholas’ hand was down there (also not the first time, but certainly not as common as the kissing part) and Nicholas’ fingers were pressing between Danny’s legs, but they were pressing towards the back, pressing behind. And it felt good and hard and hot and Nicholas was beside him and pressed against him and curled around him somehow and Danny was rocking his hips and making those strange needy sex noises and had his eyes closed and didn’t know what he was allowed to grab onto.

And then Nicholas was pressing his nose against Danny’s neck and Danny was coming – coming over his stomach and a bit on Nicholas’ arm, and a bit on Nicholas’ shirt, which was hot and mortifying at the same time – and his cock felt good but there was nothing actually touching him there and that was something he’d tangle in his brain and get hard over later. But Nicholas had his face pressed to Danny’s neck and his breath hot on Danny’s skin and he was saying Danny’s name like it was important, like it meant something.

"Danny. Oh, _Danny._ "

 

The fourth time was tangled in memories of other times and the smell of flowers in Nicholas' jumper and the smell of grave dirt from Danny’s hands. It was evening, the day was over – the year was over – and Danny wasn’t crying.

Wasn’t crying, and wasn’t being a pain and being selfish and little guilty but completely glad at the way Nicholas had his arms around him – and Danny was probably a bit of a girl and all, but Nicholas had apparently spent enough time with girls to know how to hold someone, to hold them and murmur things that weren’t even words and just be there – arms tight and strong and Danny was shaking a little because everything had fallen apart once, so what the hell was he going to do when it happened again?

And Danny had his face pressed against Nicholas’ chest – into the clean grey wool of his fucking sweater vest – and Nicholas had his closed lips pressed into Danny’s hair, and Danny was clutching onto him as if they’d be lost forever if he let go. He’d finally learnt what he was allowed to grab on to.

And Nicholas was holding Danny tight too, was holding onto him and not letting go, and somehow understanding even though Danny didn’t understand himself – couldn’t put words to it. His lips were moving (Nicholas had nice lips, underneath the frown) and maybe there were kisses or maybe there were words. Maybe it was just his name over and over again. _Danny_.

Or maybe it didn’t matter what they were, just that they were there and they were close and Nicholas certainly wasn’t letting go. Wasn’t going anywhere.

 

The fifth time. The fifth time only ever played out as the whole scene. With the two of them creeping around the edge of Brian Stuart’s garage with the whole back field spreading in front of them and their batons out and Nicholas with his thigh holster – and Danny had always wanted to mention how hot he thought that was, but there was a whole area of kink that he wasn’t ready for yet; that he wanted to tease and toy with as they got old together.

And Danny was saying something stupid and inane about how Stuart had been bragging a month back about how he had hollow-tip bullets for his gun, and Nicholas was saying “That’s stupid,” and “where would he get them anyway?” and “what type of gun?”. And then he was staring somewhere to Danny’s left, and saying _"Danny!"_ before shoving him out of the way. Thudding into him with the full force of his lean body.

And as Danny started the fall back, all he could think was how rude that was, with not even a please or a by the by.

And then he was watching Nicholas falling along with him, arms out towards Danny and the two of them falling along the same trajectory. And then somehow Nicholas’ line failed, it changed. His shoulder jerking back and –

the only time Danny had seen something like it was when Andy had said something rather crude to Tina as a dare, and she’d thrown her glass of red at him in the pub. The way the liquid flew through the air, all lines from the force and droplets because it was liquid and curling somehow like it was a modern ice sculpture that was meant to be about flowers, but because it was modern it looked nothing like them at all

\- and there was red coming from Nicholas’ shoulder, coming out from behind Nicholas’ shoulder with that strange kind of slowness that is the most horrible kind of gift when you’ve realised that something bad is happening.

And Danny was crawling over to him – and there were feet thudding past, people doing things with Danny stuck somehow in his own little world, the echo of his name playing like a soundtrack with an abrupt ending. Crawling over to Nicholas and putting his hands over that tiny hole – so little – and it doing nothing at all because of course it was bigger on the other side and Danny had seen the bits flying away like birds and flowers and Danny was saying things like “Nick,” and “Nicholas,” and “It’ll be okay, you hear me?” and “Nick? Oh god, please”.

And he kept waiting for Nicholas’ head to lean a little to the side, for his lips to make that familiar shape and it wouldn’t even matter if the sound was out and he couldn’t hear anything over his own babbling and buzzing lack of sound from anything else. He kept waiting with his hands pressed over that hole that seemed too small and trying not to breathe in the smell of the grass and the meat and the silence. He just needed to see it, to know it was okay.

"Nick?"


End file.
